


I did wear a Burberry suit once

by samanthajane



Category: Ed Sheeran (Musician), One Direction (Band)
Genre: Harry can't do pep talks, M/M, help me I'm in love with Ed's roommate and can't stop including her in fics, how dare you name Ed worst dressed male he wore a Burberry suit
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-02
Updated: 2013-03-02
Packaged: 2017-12-04 02:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/705411
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/samanthajane/pseuds/samanthajane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ed doesn’t seem to get that Harry doesn’t base his relationships on what GQ says.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I did wear a Burberry suit once

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this ages ago and forgot about it until now.

Harry sees it first on twitter, he’s in the airport and his phone signal is terrible, but apparently Louis’ ipad is working fine. It’s not like it’s anything serious, Ed seems to be good at avoiding the press in a way that makes Harry insanely jealous- so he laughs, because he knows Ed won’t really care.

And when he gets to the flat later and Briony waves the magazine in his face as soon as the door’s open, he starts giggling and the three of them settle down in the living room so that they can both give Ed a good old teasing about it. (He does steal a moment first to kiss Ed, pulling him in close and humming happily, because it’s been a few weeks, after all.)

“This is amazing.” He says, chuckling at the picture they’ve used of Ed looking extra scruffy in a green hoodie and worn out jeans – obviously they pick bad ones deliberately for effect, Ed looks a hell of a lot better than that even now in just a simple t-shirt.

Briony’s still giggling next to Harry and muttering about it being ‘the best thing ever’. She nudges his arm, “Oh god, I really wish they knew about you so they could say something like ‘Everyone might be after his _Styles_ , but no one’s after his Style.’”

She barely gets it all out before they’re both giggling and Harry’s doubled over a bit. Ed’s across on the other sofa, glaring at them. He’s not finding this as funny as Harry thought he would, maybe the novelty’s already worn off, since he found out this morning and it’s nearly evening now.

“I hate you so much. Both of you.” He mumbles and Harry sticks his tongue out at him, trying to get him to lighten up but Ed just glares more, with narrowed eyes now. “I hate you the most.” He slumps back on the sofa, his t-shirt riding up a bit and exposing skin just above his jeans. Harry has to remind himself that Briony’s still here – if he can survive a few weeks he can survive a few more hours.

(He hopes she’s going out tonight, though, in the nicest way. Harry loves her to bits and she’s probably been the most welcoming of Ed’s friends to him, but he’d still quite like some peace and quiet to be not very peaceful and not very quiet with Ed.)

Ed doesn’t even notice that Harry’s biting his lip to keep his self-control because he’s still huffing, flicking through the TV channels and mumbling. “S’not like you’re even on the Best Dressed list…”

“At least I’m not on the Worst Dressed.” Harry smirks, expecting to make Ed laugh just a little bit because _usually_ they can bicker and bitch to each other even on sensitive subjects and still find the other’s jibes funny,  even when they’re pretty mean, especially so, sometimes. But Ed just glances at him, unimpressed, then looks back at the TV again.

“Fuck off. Get out of my flat.”

“No thank you.” Harry hums with a smug little smile and Briony giggles next to him.

Ed turns back to him with the same pissed-off expression, “It wasn’t a suggestion, it was a demand.”

Harry quirks an eyebrow. “A demand? Ooh, kinky.”

“Is he like that in bed Harry?” Briony says in an exaggerated whisper.

“Sometimes.” Harry says, looking right at Ed with a smirk. Ed just rolls his eyes.

“You wish.”

“Could wear some sexy underwear for him Ed?” Briony teases, then slaps a palm to her forehead. “Oh wait, I forgot – you’re not good at choosing what to wear, the worst actually.”

Harry can’t stop from bursting into laughter at that, but feels guilty when he looks over and Ed’s just staring at the TV, not joining in.

“I would like it if you both left. Now.” He mumbles and his lips are pouting out like a seven year old in a huff, the way he does when Harry tells him they don’t have time for _that_ in the shower, or when he says he has to go when they’re on Skype.  Harry thinks it’s sort of adorable, and though he doesn’t exactly want to get rid of it, the best way is always to kiss it away.

He gets up and moves to the other sofa, sitting close to Ed and trying to tickle him a little but he just gets shoved away. He sighs, looking at Ed who’s not looking back, “If I leave,” he traces a finger up Ed’s arm softly, “I’m gonna get a phonecall within a maximum of two hours asking me to come back, so I’d rather just stick around here until you decide to talk to me again.”

Ed does look back at him, speaking quietly and with a grumble in his voice, which is kind of sexy but not when it’s serious and aimed at Harry, “Which isn’t going to be anytime soon.”

“Well, I’m leaving for Manchester tomorrow, so I should hope it would be.” Harry bats his arm playfully, but once again he gets next to no response.

“Hmm. Shame that.” Ed looks back at the TV, pretending to look like he’s watching intently but Harry knows he’s definitely in a mood, because he only ever finds Countdown interesting when him and Harry are making dirty words from the letters and giggling all over each other. “I’ll miss having you around, taking the piss out of me and that.”

“I know you will, sweetheart.” Harry pets his leg, tries to lean in close to his face but Ed squirms. Harry leans back away from him, sighing again, glancing over at Briony who seems just as confused as him, “You aren’t really bothered what they think are you?” he asks Ed softly.

“Not at all.” Ed says, snorting, stretching an arm onto the back of the sofa – not the arm on Harry’s side, unfortunately. “Bunch of pretentious rich dudes who like, wear glasses when they don’t need them and stuff. Why would I care what they think.”

Harry tries to do a ‘mum’ frown to make Ed laugh. “That’s not very nice, what they said about you wasn’t _that_ bad.”

Ed glares at him, head resting on the back of the sofa, “They’re stuck up twats, Harry, I can say what I like.”

Harry shifts uncomfortable on his knees, twiddling his thumbs in his lap. It’s never really been a problem that Harry’s sort of into fashion now and Ed’s not too fussed – because people in relationships can have different interests, it’s necessary, actually, it’s why they work. Harry’s not sure why Ed seems suddenly so against it all today. “How do you know that?”

“Look at the kinds of people they pick to win this shit.” Ed nods over to wear the magazine sits next to Briony. “Look at his coat, bet he’s a total dick.”

“Judging people based on what they’re wearing is-”

“Is what everyone does on a daily basis and is exactly what this” Ed points to the magazine now, “entire industry is based on, so don’t try and make me out to be the bad one. I’m not making money out of it.” He sits back further on the sofa, slumping down like he always does when he thinks he’s won an argument with Briony or Chris or usually people who aren’t Harry. Harry and Ed don’t really argue and if they do disagree, Ed is normally a lot nicer than this.

“It’s not about _judging_ people,” Harry stresses gently, he can’t really bring himself to be as blunt as Ed’s being. “it’s about appreciating when people think about different styles and fabrics, follow the up and coming trends-”

“Who wants to follow trends?” Ed says, face all screwed up and Harry wants to kiss the frown from him because he’s being an _idiot_.

“Maybe you don’t.”

“I don’t.”

“Then why do you care?” Harry asks with a frustrated laugh.

“Because, why do they have to single out the people who aren’t conforming to what they want us to be? Fair enough, recognise when someone looks good in the latest trends, but why comment on people who clearly don’t give a shit what they’re wearing?”

“I think it’s supposed to be a bit tongue-in-cheek.” He says softly.

“Well excuse me for not being amused at this.”  Ed huffs.

“I honestly thought you would be!” Harry splutters because he just doesn’t get why Ed is so bothered by this.

“Well maybe you and your little fashion friends shouldn’t just assume that I’ll find things funny when actually it’s a bit irritating.” Ed folds his arms over his middle and he’s probably as slumped as he could possibly be without falling right off the couch.

“Ed.” Harry says seriously, confused at why Ed’s acting like he’s the problem when all he’s done is tease him a bit, which is basically what about 70% of their relationship is based on anyway. Part of him wants to cuddle up to him and nuzzle his neck and tell him he’s being stupid, and he would if he didn’t think he’d get batted away and grumbled at, so he just stares at him helplessly instead when Ed meets his eyes.

Right away Ed’s face melts and Harry doesn’t know why, but he’s glad Ed’s looking at him fondly again rather than like he’s angry with him. “Oh don’t go all big-green-doe-eyes on me.” He sighs, a little defeated and the beginnings of a smile finally on his face.

Harry beams at him, taking both of Ed’s hands in his own and kissing a few of his knuckles and fingers and whichever bits he can get too, “Just forget about it.” He says, looking at him seriously, “I’ll stop making jokes now that I know you don’t find it funny.”

Ed just gives him a small smile and Harry _thinks_ they’re okay, but he’s still not really sure what’s bothering Ed so much about something he would usually joke about.

“Well, I better get going,” Briony interrupts his thoughts, standing up and stretching, she gives Ed a little kick in the shin as she walks past them, “need to go to Katie’s and get my face on and borrow something pretty for tonight if I’ve any chance of finding this.” She waves a pointed finger over them and Harry just giggles.

“Yeah cause sleazy guys in clubs are totally out to find true love aren’t they?” Ed says sceptically at her and she rolls her eyes, making to walk away.

“Not all of them are sleazy.”

Ed reached over the back of the sofa and pulls her back by the hand, “Just be careful please.” He says seriously. (And Harry just really loves him. Huge, ridiculous amounts.)

“I will, honey.” Briony smiles, then she ruffles Harry’s hair. “Bye Harry.”

“Bye bye.” He grins at her as she makes her way over to get her shoes and keys before leaving.

~

Harry sits at the kitchen table, absently flicking through the ‘best dressed’ list in GQ while he’s waiting for the soy sauces and veg to boil so that he can add the noodles and start cooking the chicken.

He’s a little confused again, because he tried to kiss Ed on the sofa when Briony left and had been faced with a sigh and Ed only half-heartedly kissing him back. So he tried kissing his neck instead, hands under Ed’s t-shirt and had crawled over the sofa a little trying to get into his lap. Ed had resisted that too. Then when Harry flat out asked him if he wanted him to suck him off, almost sinking onto his knees in anticipation, Ed pushed him off gently and got up, mumbling about having to go email some tunes to Jake. And with that he’d slunk of to his bedroom and Harry had been left confused, listening to the faint sound of guitar playing from down the hall.

Harry’s doesn’t usually get paranoid about things, especially not about Ed, he can’t really do that in their relationship because they have to be flexible and understanding and laid back or this situation just wouldn’t work- but Ed hasn’t refused a blowjob from him the entire seven months and eighteen days they’ve been together so he’s a little worried that something is definitely wrong.

So he’s cooking, well, cooking and reading, instead of making Ed orgasm. He thinks that would probably be more satisfying than pondering what unworldly substance Andrew Garfield’s hair must be made out of and hoping his noodles don’t spoil because Ed really likes stir fry.

And while he’s smirking at Zayn’s stupid pout in his picture, he suddenly feels something soft hit him on the back of the head, he whirls around and there’s a slipper on the floor, Ed’s standing in the doorway holding the other one. “What are you doing?” Harry asks with a smile.

“Throwing things at you.” Ed shrugs, and launches the other slipper so it hits Harry in the shoulder with a soft thud, Harry flinches but doesn’t move or put his hands up and Ed laughs a little.

“Why?”

“Cause you’re annoying.” Ed shrugs, he crosses the room, opening up the pot on the hob and peering into it curiously.

Harry gets to his feet quickly and follows him over reaching around him and pulling his hand a way, tutting in his ear to leave it alone. He giggles and tries to nuzzle his ear but Ed ignores it, ducking out of Harry’s arms and taking a seat at the table, twisting to scoff at the magazine. Harry sighs, adds the noodles quickly and returns to the table, taking the magazine back from Ed.

“Do you mind? I’m trying to read.” He murmurs cheekily.

“Trying to ogle.” Ed says as if he’s correcting him.

“I find clothes interesting actually, it’s not just about ogling.” Harry says coolly, then quirks an eyebrow at him, “Although, saying that, this Eddie Redmayne guy does have a little something about him doesn’t he?”

Ed takes the magazine round to his side and glares at the page, “Is this you finding yourself a well-dressed Ed?” he mutters to Harry grumpily and Harry thinks _great_ , because he’s clearly not over it. “You could take him out on weekends, you know, to events and stuff.”

Harry takes his hand gently, batting his eyelids. “Can I still have you for the real stuff?”

Ed squirms out of his grip, “You mean sitting around my flat, eating all my food, falling asleep on my stuff, whining about not wanting to wash your hair, making me rub your feet and generally being a mopey, annoying teenager.”

“And sex.” Harry grins at him.

“He’s probably better in bed than me.” Ed mumbles.

“Should I invite him round and we can decide together?”

Harry’s desperately telling himself that jokes will solve whatever the hell seems to be wrong with Ed, but it doesn’t seem to be working because he’s still glaring at him.

“I hate you.” Ed looks down at the table where he’s tracing patterns with his fingers. He mumbles something that Harry doesn’t catch.

“What was that?”

“I said,” Ed looks back up at him, “I see Nick made it to number 4.”

“Yeah…” Harry looks at him confused.

Ed clears his throat a little, he always gets a bit weird when he talks about Nick.

(Harry understands. It’s a known fact that Nick absolutely has a bit of a crush on him, but it’s also not something he dwells on because another known fact is that Harry is absolutely in love with Ed and therefore not interested in anyone else at all. But it just happened rather inconveniently that Nick and Harry became close friends at a time when Ed wasn’t really around last year and things were weird with the two of them because it was clear they both wanted to make a move but felt it was best they shouldn’t. And suddenly Harry had this new, older, openly gay friend which was disheartening for Ed to come home to find. But the thing was, Harry had been waiting for Ed all along. And once they worked that out, most of Ed’s jealousy went away and now that they’re a _couple_ he’s even hung out with Nick a few times and been fine about it. But there’s probably always going be some discomfort there, Harry thinks.)

“Apparently he looks ‘as sharp in ripped jeans and a good knit as he does in a three-piece’, which I’m assuming is some kind of suit.” Ed mumbles.

“See,” Harry chuckles, “you’re getting there.”

Ed looks at him curiously, “Do you _want_ me to get there?”

Harry takes a few seconds to realise that Ed’s asking if he wants him to change, for him. Which is completely ridiculous because he’s never given any indicators of that at all, just because he enjoys things it doesn’t mean Ed should too- and he loves that they have differences, it’s one of his favourite things about them because he actually learns things from Ed, and teaching him things too. He thought Ed _got_ that. “No- _Ed_.” He says a little pleadingly, “Don’t be stupid. You don’t really think I care, do you?”

Ed looks at him for a few moments then sighs, “I’m going for a shower.” He gets up to walk out, mumbling “And I don’t want company” as he goes.

“What about dinner?” Harry calls after him but gets no reply. He’s pretty close to getting up and following Ed into the shower, pinning him down and spraying water in his face until he agrees to stop being so dumb. But he doesn’t, just closes the magazine on Eddie Redmayne’s face and wishes he hadn’t brought it up again.

~

After he’s eaten dinner alone and retreated back to the couch to watch pointless TV, Ed emerges from seemingly the longest shower in history, he’s put on the same blue t-shirt but replaces his jeans with jogging bottoms and he’s wearing Harry’s socks. He looks ridiculously cuddly and Harry’s frustrated knowing that Ed most likely _won’t_ snuggle up next to him when he sits down.

He doesn’t. He sits next to him, but leaves a gap and he’s only so much as perched rather than actual sitting, and he’s looking at the TV, not Harry.

“Have you stopped moping yet?” Harry asks, knowing the answer and getting it for sure when Ed doesn’t respond. “For God’s sake.” He groans, slumping back, “And you call me the teenager.”

“You _are_ the teenager.” Ed says simply and Harry’s the one to glare now.

“Well, you act just as much like it. If not more.” Ed doesn’t respond again, so Harry launched himself over the rudely large gap Ed left between then and throws his arm across Ed’s middle and tucks his face into his neck.

“What are you doing?” Ed mutters.

“Hugging you.”

Ed wriggles a bit, “This is a weird hug.”

“That’s cause you’re not hugging back properly.” Harry says, shifting to try and get more comfortable but it doesn’t really work because Ed’s arms are crushed beneath him and he’s making no effort to move them.

“Don’t wanna hug you back.” He mumbles and Harry is just about to lose his temper. (Which for Harry, means nothing more than stamping his feet and whining like a toddler.)

“ _Ed_.” He pokes at Ed’s tummy and chest and bites playfully at his neck, just wanting him to respond to something.

“No. Get off me.” Ed tries to push him but Harry resists so he pushes harder, holding startled Harry back. “I mean it, get those stupid, big hands off me.”

Harry huffs in defeat, he might cry with frustration when he looks over at the clock and realises it’s seven already and him and Ed have barely had a conversation and tomorrow he has to leave again. “Why are you so upset about this?” he pleads quietly.

“I’m not upset.” Ed says honestly, Harry shifts closer, making Ed look him right in the eye so he’ll tell him the truth. “I’m just- I dunno. Doesn’t matter.”

“It _does_ matter. Stop making me feel helpless.” Harry puts a hand on his arm and Ed _finally_ doesn’t bat him away, just looks up at him, deep in thought. “What’s wrong? Is it a not-winning thing? Cause, well, technically you did win something.” He tries a smile but Ed shakes his head.

“No. As if I’d want to win something I haven’t even tried to get.” He says flatly.

“Well, what is it then?”

“Just.” Ed sighs, speaking quietly and more to his lap than Harry, “Well- you’re _you_. And if you were gonna have a boyfriend, I bet the kind of people who read this magazine and… every other media form, really, well they’d probably never think you’d go for someone who was worst dressed man would they? They’d think we don’t… match.”

“And why do these people have a valid insight into who I go out with?” Harry frowns.

“Well-” Ed starts but cuts it off by sighing and scratching a hand through his hair. He looks back at Harry who’s still looking at him with the same frown.

“And in your mind, or sorry – these people’s minds – what kind of person _should_ I be going out with instead?”

“I dunno.” Ed laughs, but it’s a little self-deprecating. “ Someone who looks as sharp in ripped jeans and a good knit as he does in a three-piece.” He mumbles and Harry bursts into giggles, and when he looks over he sees Ed’s laughing too and he’s hoping this is the beginning of him noticing how ridiculous he’s being. But then he says “I’m serious you know?”

“No, you’re not.” Harry rolls his eyes, and secretly hopes Ed wins this Grammy in a few weeks simply to give his ego a brush. “And if you are, then you’re a total and complete idiot.” He leans in and kisses Ed’s mouth with a small, fond laugh.

“Why?” Ed breathes when Harry pulls away and Harry narrows his eyes.

“Because I don’t choose who I go out with based on how they dress.”

“Well that’s obvious, you wouldn’t be anywhere near me.”

“That’s not what I-” Harry lets out a frustrated groan and runs a hand through his hair, “Do I have to spell it out for you?”

“What?”

Harry clambers over and settles in one of his favourite positions – straddling Ed’s lap. Ed doesn’t really resist this time, even rests his hands on Harry’s thighs, though that might be out of habit more than anything else, Harry’s happy anyway, though, and leans in close to Ed’s face to speak lowly, “I’m not gonna cater to whatever this needy, self-pity over something _stupid_ thing you’re doing is ever again. But I only have one night with you and I’m not spending it with you being a grumpy prick.”

Ed snorts. “Charming. Is there a Boyfriend of the Year award in GQ? Cause I know who gets my vote.”

“Just shut up and listen” Harry growls at him, probably seeming as intimidating as a new born kitten but he tries anyway, “You should already know that, if I was even going to _consider_ anyone else, they would have to match everything I get from you, which I don’t even think is possible. Because no one is as much of a fucking idiot as you are, no one in the world, and therefore no one could ever make me laugh like you.” He leans right in and kisses his forehead, getting a kiss to the underside of his chin in return, which makes him grin stupidly wide, “And I’m pretty sure I would never meet anyone in the same ridiculous way, who would flirt with me shamelessly for over a year without actually doing anything.”

“You know you could have done something too-” Ed butts in and Harry covers his mouth with his finger, rolling his eyes.

“And I’d never meet someone who consistently ignores what I tell them to do. Like shutting up when I’m trying to give them a speech about how much I love them.”

Ed’s eyes light up and he shifts to pull Harry in closer on his lap. “You love me?”

“Just a bit, yeah.” Harry chuckles.

“Yeah well, I knew that.” Ed teases, “Old news, what else is on.”

“Course you know that,” Harry raises an eyebrow, “you called us true love earlier.”

Ed looks at him with a confused smile on his face, “Did not.”

“Yes you did.” He nods, pecking Ed’s lips just because he can, “To Briony, you said she wouldn’t find true love in a club.”

Ed realises and his face flushes red, “Well I didn’t mean-” Harry doesn’t let him finish because he’s pressing their lips together, not caring about Ed’s defence. He melts into it, bringing his hands up to Ed’s face and rubbing his cheeks with his thumbs. Ed hums happily and he slides a hand under Harry’s jumper, and Harry can’t kiss properly from smiling.

“Mmm.” He smiles against Ed’s lips. “You taste nice.”

Ed studies his face for a minute, then huffs out a breath. “Reckon Eddie what’s-his-face would taste better. Or Nick.”

Harry thinks he might have to give on life, on everything, at this point. He drops his head onto Ed’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of his skin through the cotton of his t-shirt – that’s a lovely deep blue and Harry definitely doesn’t care where it’s from, or really, he doesn’t care if Ed’s even wearing a t-shirt. That has nothing to do with anything, and until today apparently that was a mutual understanding. “Ed.” He groans into his neck.

“It’s true though.” Ed says quietly.

“No it’s-” he lifts his head up to look at him properly, taking a deep, slow breath to stop himself whinging like a child. He doesn’t want to do this – making each other feel bad by concentrating on all the things they’re not instead of what they are.  

“Look,” he sighs, “we can play this game if you want, going back and forth about not feeling good enough for each other or whatever nonsense this is.  I could tell you that I sometimes feel ridiculously uncool and _babyish_ around you because of your life story and all these things you’ve done while I just seem so sheltered and dull.” He runs his hands down Ed’s bare arms with a shy smile, Ed’s frowning at him but he doesn’t interrupt this time, “But that’s – that’s just dumb shit I think sometimes, when I haven’t seen you in a month and I’m lying in a hotel thinking that I can’t name all of Bob Dylan’s albums, and I’ll never really understand rap music, or what a loop pedal actually does.”

He laughs a little and Ed’s giggling, twirling a finger in Harry’s hair fondly, Harry swallows hard, “And I think – “ _surely he can do better_?” But then, then we have all of this other stuff, stuff that gets rid of all my doubts cause… cause I love you.” He kisses him to cement that bit, “And I think I make you pretty happy. And you make me really, really happy.” He raises his eyebrows and shrugs, “So I think we’re pretty good for each other.”

Ed’s still looking at him funny so Harry frowns and tries to come up with more. It’s really not fair when the emotional freak out roles are reversed like this because Ed’s a _songwriter_ , he can easily think up something wonderfully poetic and simple and make Harry feel all achy sweet and loved and no longer worried that The Sun thinks he’s fat and spotty and his tattoos are weird. Harry’s not the best at pep talks that go any deeper than “That sucks man, want a hug?”

He clears his throat softly, “And it’s not that I don’t want you to tell me when you feel bad or insecure or whatever. Um, _hello_ , that’s kind of what I’m here for.” He gives him a dopey smile. “But I just don’t get how – how if I love you, and you love me, then how come it still matters what you think everyone else would think?”

Ed rests his head against Harry. “If everyone was saying it you might start to believe it.” He says quietly.

Harry pushes him back and stares at him. “Are you serious? If someone was telling me I shouldn’t be with you, for whatever reason, I’d probably punch them in the face.”

“No.” Ed tucks his hand under the neckline of Harry’s jumper at the back, stroking the top of his spine with his thumb. “You’d smile sweetly at them, then glare when they weren’t looking and mumble things to me or Louis about how mean they were.”

Harry sighs like he’s deflating and Ed giggles at him, giving him a soft look. Harry doesn’t want to leave it there though. So he growls “You’re wrong.”

“I am?” Ed quirks an eyebrow.

“Yes. I’d go up to whatever prick said that and I’d tell them all the reasons I fell for you and why you’re amazing.”

Ed looks delightfully amused, just how Harry likes him best. “Oh you would now, would you?” Harry nods, biting his lip and Ed laughs, “And what are those reasons, might I ask?”

Harry shimmies forward even more and muffles a small laugh into Ed’s neck, breathing in his freshly washed skin, he smells like lemons and a tiny bit damp still – it’s lovely. “I’d say…” he mumbles and Ed’s laughing already at how shy Harry gets sometimes. “That I liked you right away cause you were nice to me when you didn’t have to be. You could’ve made fun of me when you found out who I was but you seemed really interested instead.”  

Ed strokes a hand up Harry’s back, under his jumper so he shivers and they both giggle.

“And you told me bad jokes in the middle of the night, and gave me socks when my feet were cold, and picked me up and got me on the sofa with you when I fell asleep on the lego, called me before our first big performance cause you knew I’d be nervous.”

Harry can’t help but keep smiling as he pulls back. It’s a little early for pillow talk but he can’t help it, it’s nice. Most of their down time together consists of this – mumbling sweet, silly memories that remind them why it’s all worth it.

“And you text me the weirdest shit.” He laughs, “And you always forget the time difference and call me when I’m asleep. And you tell me all about the cities you’re in and mention all the stuff we could do there together one day.”

Ed’s grinning at him, “I mean it when I say all of that.”

“I know.” Harry whispers. “I love how sure you are that we’re gonna make time to do this all properly one day.”

Ed shifts so he can wrap his arms around Harry’s neck and pull him down for a kiss, mumbling “We’re doing it properly now.”

Harry hums low and happy into Ed’s mouth, letting his tongue sweep out and lick a gap between their lips. He pushes forward and down and anything that gets him closer to Ed, fists his hands in Ed’s shirts and smiles when Ed does the same in his hair.

Ed pulls away slowly, breathing in deeply with his eyes still closed and their noses still bumping.

“I love you.” Harry murmurs. “Even when you’re moody and stubborn and don’t laugh at my cheer-you-up jokes. I love you all of the time.”

“I love you all of the time too.” Ed says back quietly, a smile settling on his lips comfortably as he opens his eyes. “And hey.” He pinches Harry’s side. “If someone said I wasn’t good enough for you, I’d tell them I was. Cause you want me, and that’s what matters, right?”

“Right.” Harry nods happily. And he’s not at all jealous that Ed got there in about five hundred words less than it took Harry to explain.

“Not gonna care what silly magazines say again.” Ed says surely. “They don’t know what they’re talking about.”

 “Course they don’t.” Harry gets his hands under the hem of Ed’s t-shirt, “Naming you worst dressed male.” He tuts, shaking his head exaggeratedly. “When they’re completely missing the point, cause like-” he lifts the fabric over Ed’s head with and they’re both grinning, “You look so much better with your clothes _off_.”

Ed throws his head back to rest on the back of the sofa, laughing so his whole body shakes and so does Harry on top on him. “I’ve been waiting on you saying that all day.”

“I knew it would work.” Harry laughs fondly, kissing Ed’s neck and newly exposed collar bone, hands spanning his stomach, chest, and the arm with the tattoos. “Straddling, innuendos and getting you naked – winning combination to make you feel better. Shouldn’t have bothered attempting at a pep talk. M’rubbish at those.”

“I’m not giving you a pep talk about how good you are at pep talks, Harry. This is getting ridiculous now.” Ed says seriously and then they look at each other and burst into giggles. Harry laughs into Ed’s ear and roams his hands over his bare torso until Ed shifts impatiently underneath him.

“Come on idiot, get your hideous clothes off too.”

Harry smirks and sits up to let Ed pull his top layers off, leaning back in to mutter “Gladly” and capture Ed’s mouth into a kiss that would be much filthier if he weren’t giggling. It’s perfect anyway though, because it’s so very _them_ and he wouldn’t have it any other way.


End file.
